Date: Mon, 13 Dec 2004 15:45:57 -0800 (PST)
From: curious
Subject: Mom's Stolen Nylon Stockings Part Eight
Hello everyone. I hadn't intended to write another installment but some
very wonderful people have sent me e-mails asking me to continue my life
story and write about my first experience with another man. So in response
here you go. I hope you readers like it.
I always end up laughing over the lengths I went to hide from mom and dad
that I had stolen their sex photo's and sex films when we moved back to our
home reservation after spending only one year in Oregon. My treasure box as
I still call those things was carefully hidden inside my old duffel bag,
sandwiched between dirty cloths and old blankets and no one but me was
permitted to handle my bag and carry to and later from the moving van.
Incidentally in case anyone is wondering, neither mom nor dad talked about
losing that box and its naughty contents. Maybe they convinced themselves
the movers lost it during the move or something like that. All I know, is I
got away with stealing from them. When we moved back to our home
reservation I was 14 years old. Living there over the years until I turned
19 and finally ended up in bed with Bill, my secret lover, my sex life was
confined to just fucking girls. I never acted on any impulses I had to try
and get my lips around a hard thick throbbing cock, or dress up in my nylon
stockings and find a man to make me into a little slutty fuck bitch.
I used to have quite a reputation in high school as a ladies man but to be
honest what others thought and said about me fucking every girl I ever went
out with was mostly untrue. Oh I got ass pretty regular from the girls I
dated but I never actually got as much ass as my friends and others
believed I did. Believe me if I had I would have been one happy kid in high
school.
Living with my ever growing sexual desires meant I spent my high school
years hiding my homosexual cravings from everyone I knew. Struggling to
hide my inner desires, constantly hiding my homosexual tendencies and
suppressing them, was fucking hard to do. Anyone who's struggled with their
sexuality like have knows what the fuck I'm talking about. Hiding from
others means you are also hiding from yourself and that can fuck you up big
time unless you find someway to act out your cravings. I always credit two
things that helped keep me sane concerning my sexuality and those are when
mom and dad got divorced and when I discovered how to get my hands on the
pornographic material I craved by ordering things through the U.S. postal
service.
When I turned 18 in 1978 mom and dad got divorced. Circumstances for us
kids, my younger brother and I, ended up with us literally living alone
with each other in our B.I.A. quarters while mom and dad moved in with the
people they replaced one another with. I would be starting my senior year
in high school in the fall and since my brother and I were living alone in
our B.I.A. quarters this gave me the perfect opportunity to let the let the
little girl in me come out on occasion. Periodically through the summer and
over the course of the school year when my little brother was gone I would
get my treasure box out and jack off like crazy over mom and dad's sex
pictures. When I got to do this I always daydreamed about how I wished it
was me fucking mom in those pictures. But deep down even as I jacked off
dreaming about touching her stocking clad legs and burying my hard cock
deep into her pussy, what I really ached for a real cock I could put nylon
stockings on for and take in my mouth and suck until whoever it was
attached to pulled it out and forced me on to my belly so he could fuck me
up my ass just like mom was shown doing in her pictures. But a lot happened
to me during my senior year in high school that did eventually let me find
a nice cock for me to call my very own. First my older brother moved in
with us after he got a divorce from his wife that summer. Once he moved in
it wasn't long before he hooked up with one of my old girl friends, Linda
[not her real name]. Since it was just us boys in the B.I.A. quarters, dad
was living away from home with another woman, Linda more or less moved in
as well and in time this arrangement would allow me to get my hands on
another pair of stockings but I'm getting ahead of myself here.
When we left Oregon and moved back to our home reservation I was enrolled
in high school as a freshman. I remember getting a tour of the campus and
thinking to myself that I was going to hate this place because our school
back then was what was known as an open school system. Basically this meant
there were no permanent walls separating the class rooms from each
other. It was supposed that such open room systems were more conducive to
teaching kids their A, B, C's and such. In the center of the main building
was the school library. Like the rest of the place there were no walls
dividing the library off from the rest of the building. The only thing
distinguishing the library area from the rest of the main central common
area of the building was a circular row of media station desks which were
arranged in a circular pattern around the rows of book shelves. As I was
passing by the check out desk area this is when I got my first look at the
man who would become secret life long gay lover, Bill D. He was the schools
librarian. From the moment I first saw him I knew he was a faggot. Fuck
everyone I knew in high school all knew he was queer because he is so
effeminate in his mannerism. Back then while I was in high school I acted
towards him just like all the other boys in school did and that means I
behaved among my peers as if I hated him because he was so obviously
queer. To be honest with all of you I did my fair share of making snide,
rude, hurtful comments about him as us boys teased each other saying things
like if we weren't careful Mr. D. would love nothing better than getting
one of us alone in the back office and make us suck his dick or some such
silly shit like that. Yet in all honesty whenever I was around him during
my high school years being in his presence did make me feel really
uncomfortable. I may have jacked off daydreaming about fucking a man and
sucking on a hard cock but the idea of actually engaging in a real one on
one homosexual encounter with another man terrified me. Perhaps
subconsciously Bill's presence triggered my fear of being exposed as a
faggot myself I really don't know. However what I and every other boy did
know back in high school was that he really was a queer and so we all held
a very low opinion of him.
In my senior year I had to take a Library class during the fall semester,
everyone had to. Library class meant we had to learn how to work in the
library and how to find books and use the card indexes. Like I said earlier
being around Mr. D. was uncomfortable for me. Although I hid my discomfort
from my friends, and I believe him as well, I always felt scared around
him. When I started going to library class one of the duties I got assigned
to do was run the check out desk during the class period. I hated working
the fucking check out desk. I hated it because while the rest of the kids
were given library assignments to perform during the period Bill D. would
come over to the desk and always visit with me. If that wasn't bad enough
he is also a very touchy feely sort of guy. In other words he liked to put
his arm across my shoulders when he came up to visit and he would leave the
fucking there for far too long as far as I was concerned. I mean it was bad
enough just being in his presence and quietly suffering the inner fears
churning through me whenever I had to be around him. But can you imagine
how much more difficult it was for me to actually have that faggot publicly
put his arm around me and hold me like a bitch as he engaged me in small
talk. Man the teasing I had to endure from my relatives and my friends when
they saw him do this with me was almost beyond unbearable.
I suppose if I had been a man about things, I could have just told him that
I didn't like him putting his arm around my shoulders. And I could have
told him how uncomfortable I felt whenever he was around me. But to be
honest actually telling him to leave me alone and stay away from me never
crossed my mind. Back in those days kids telling an adult they were
uncomfortable with touching was simply unheard of, at least they were back
home. Anyway I never spoke to him about my feelings. I just
endured. Eventually as the semester went on I began to notice, feel
actually, that Bill started to give my shoulder these soft gentle squeezes
with the palm of his hand when he put his arm around me. Pretty soon when
he would take his arm away he started to let his hand fall down along my
side to my waist where he would gently squeeze my side before removing his
hand from my body. Now what really pissed me off when he did this was I
knew in my heart that the fucker was copping a cheap feel off of me. I knew
this is what he was doing, and I knew it was wrong for him to do it, but I
didn't know what I could or should do about it. So I simply endured
it. During that whole semester I prayed desperately for Christmas vacation
to hurry up and arrive because then library class would be over and I
wouldn't have to be there anymore. However it turned out Bill D. had plans
in the works to keep me around and only after we became lovers did he tell
me about what he did in order to make certain I would spend my entire
senior year working in his library.
One night when I 22 years old and I lay against Bill in bed catching my
breath after sharing a deliciously nasty half hour of passion with him. He
me pulled over onto my back and raised himself up over me. I remember at
the time that I thought he was going to kiss me and we would make love
again. So as I smiled up at him and spread my stocking clad legs apart to
give him unrestricted access to my body you can imagine the surprise I felt
when he looked down at me and quite casually told me he had deliberately
flunked me in library class back when I was a senior in high school just so
he could keep me around him for the rest of the year. That night he
confessed to me that he used to daydream about seducing me into his bed
when I was working with him in the library and because he had been so
sexually attracted to me he had let himself act on his baser impulses and
he gave me a failing grade. The result of which meant I had to take library
class all over again.
"I wanted you so badly," he whispered to me. "I just had to find a way to
keep you near."
Now you think this revelation would have pissed me off. After all learning
about a man going to such lengths just so he could cop cheap feels off you
should make a person fell angry as hell. But all I really did in response
to his confession was pull him down on top of me and I kissed him deeply on
the mouth as I wrapped my stocking legs around his waist and felt myself
growing hard underneath him.
Unfortunately for Bill though his little plan to seduce me into his bed
when I was a senior in high school never panned out. That isn't to say the
idea of actually fucking him never entered my mind back then. You see once
I accepted the fact I was stuck working in the library with him for the
rest of year. I resigned myself to enduring his unwanted touches until
school got out and I graduated. But because I did desire to find out and
experience what it would actually be like to fuck another man when I was
home alone at night and jacked off in bed fantasying about hot man on man
love. My sexual fantasies involving me sucking and fucking a hard cock
while wearing pretty nylon stockings began to revolve around Bill D. In
effect Bill as a result of my sexual fantasies involving gay sex became my
ideal man. He was older than I was, he was sensitive, he was stable, and he
was single. In essence he was safe. And now as I write these words I can
acknowledge that I loved him even back then only I didn't know it at the
time.
It took an incredible irresistible desire to put on a pair of soft,
deliciously nasty nylon stockings and wear them for a real man to finally
overcome all my inner most fears about me being a faggot and a queer to
drive me into the arms of another man. My desire to wear nylon stockings
and wrap my legs around a real man as imagined him pushing his hard
throbbing cock into my willing asshole is what drove "me" to seduce Bill
D. and trick him into taking me into his bed so I could finally discover
what it was like to have sex with another man. How I did it was simple and
things worked out as follows.
First off as hard as it is to believe you must know that Bill D. lived in
the B.I.A. duplex quarters right behind our own. So the only distance I
ever had to travel to wrap my stocking clad legs around another man was
simply to cross our shared back yard. Think of it, for 4 years I lived next
door to Bill and all I ever had to do and all I did when I set my own nasty
little seduction into motion was simply jump a fence and knock on his back
door. Remember I told you Linda had moved in with us boys. My older brother
is just like me when it comes to sex and desiring our women to dress
themselves in nylon stockings and a garter belt before we fuck. One night
after graduation I was incredibly horny. I was alone in the house and I
"needed" and I mean desperately needed to feel nylon stockings on my
legs. I simply had to have some nylons and since I knew Linda wore
stockings for my brother so I went into their room and stole myself a pair
of thigh highs with the elastic band in them. I returned quickly to my room
and put them on and was lying in bed stroking my throbbing cock dreaming
about fucking a man when I just sat up and said "Fuck it!"
Bill D. lived right behind us and I knew that faggot wanted to fuck me so
why in the hell wasn't I over in his house fucking him? What the fuck was
doing here in my bedroom jacking off fantasying about fucking a man when
all I had to do was go next door? I asked myself questions like this over
and over again as I got up off my bed and leaving Linda's stolen stockings
on I started getting dressed. I was so tired of hiding my feelings and
tired of aching for sexual release. I was tired of being alone and if I
didn't hurry up and do something about it then I really felt like I would
go crazy and end up doing something really stupid. My entire life I had
hidden my true feelings from everyone I knew. I walked around every day
wishing with all my heart to just let my girly side come out and let myself
be the person I wanted to be. But instead of following my heart I
suppressed everything. Instead of letting my self wear nylons and find a
male lover to hold me and comfort me all I ever did was daydream about
it. And for what? Why shouldn't I do something about my situation? Why
couldn't I just give in to my feelings and just fucking find a man to fuck?
You know I had already jumped the fence behind the house and had knocked on
Bill's door before I realized where the hell at was at. When Bill opened
his door and I saw him standing there with a puzzled but somewhat pleased
look on his face I just asked if it would be alright if I could come in and
talk to him. Without hesitation he invited me inside and in a moment I
found myself sitting on his couch and for the next hour and half he and I
just sat there in his living room talking. Now I knew why I was there that
night. I still had Linda's nylons on under my jeans. And I was determined
before I left his house to have this man take me into his bedroom and then
into his bed so I could spread my stocking legs apart and have him do
whatever he wanted with me. I was determined to faggot fuck that night and
nothing was going to stop me.
I had always believed Bill was a faggot. Deep down I knew this was true
about him but I was scared to just come right out and ask him for sex. So
what I did was manipulate our conversation. I got us talking about the
biggest homosexual topic of the time back then, Anita Bryant, and the
campaign she was waging in Florida preaching about the sins of gay
people. Through the course of our conversation I lied and told Bill that
once when I was slightly drunk at a party I had allowed another boy to
fondle my cock. I told him that I didn't have much of a problem letting
another boy touch me like that because hell, after all a hand is a hand and
it didn't really matter who it was attached too if it was giving you
pleasure. I also said that I would like to discover what it would be like
to actually have sex with another boy but because we lived in the kind of
town we lived in, where would I ever find someone to show me what it was
like to fuck another man?
People on that bald faced lie rested all my hopes. And it worked because
once I said it Bill looked at me and responded with, "I'm here. I could
show you." And that is how I ended up seducing Bill. That night I
experienced gay sex and loved every fucking hot minute of time we spent in
his bed. I undressed in his bathroom and stepped into his bedroom wearing
Linda's nylon thigh highs dreading he would react badly to me wearing
stockings but instead he held his arms up to me and without hesitation I
crawled on top of him and we kissed. I felt so soft and warm inside as he
touched me and ran his hands up and down my body. I craved his touch and
offered him my body to use as he wished. He gently sucked my cock for a
time and once he used the tip of his wet tongue to gently probe my tight
asshole. But to this day he and I have never actually had anal intercourse
with each other. I crave that experience but he just isn't into it so I do
without. I suppose as lovers the two of us are rather boring. Bill likes to
cum either by rubbing our cocks together as I lay underneath him or he
likes having me jack him off. As for myself when we fuck what I get is my
own hand jacking off my own cock. I always let him cum first when we're
together and then when he's done I like to have him straddle me across the
face so I can take his limp cock in my mouth and suck on it as I jack off
beneath him. On occasion when we're position like this he will reach back
and pulls my stocking clad legs up to his sides and holds them there until
I shoot my load and splash it across my stomach. That's how I cum with him
when we get together for sex. Its pretty tame shit, I know, but please
understand that what is important to me when I'm with him is wearing my
nylons and feeling how nasty it is to lie underneath him with my stocking
clad legs cradling him like a bitch as we rub cocks up against each other
and kiss deeply on the mouth. I love that old man. I'm 45 years old now and
for the past 26 years since May of 1978 we have maintained our secret love
affair. I haven't been with Bill since February of 2002, almost two years
now but I know when I get my opportunity to go and see him, just like he
did 26 years ago when I knock on his door he'll answer it and I'll enter
his home and get to put my nylon stockings on and let the little girl in me
out again.